A Whovian is Not a Vacuum Cleaner
by Coopereid
Summary: One-shot. Derek walks into his apartment to find Spencer and Garcia watching the announcement of the Twelfth Doctor. Derek's lack of knowledge gets him dirty looks from two devout Whovians.


Derek walked into his apartment after being at the gym, kicking his shoes off and setting them by the door. After hanging up his keys, he saw Spencer and Garcia sitting on the couch, watching something closely on her laptop.

"…What are you two doing over here?" he asked as he made his way over to the couch, sitting beside Spencer.

"The twelfth doctor is about to be announced," Spencer replied, not bothering to look away from the screen.

Derek wrapped an arm around Spencer's waist, kissing the top of his head. "So, which doctor is this?"

"_The_ doctor. The eleventh doctor is regenerating this Christmas, so they're broadcasting the announcement live around the world," Garcia told him.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "It's that big of a deal? Some dude is going to have an acting gig…"

"It's the Whovian equivalent of finding out who's the new pope," Spencer said, hooking his chin in his hand.

"Or the nerdy version of the royal wedding. It's something that you just _have_ to watch."

Derek looked at them, confused. "Whobi-_what_?"

"Who-vi-an," Spencer corrected.

"Isn't that something made by Dyson, you know, that vacuum cleaner company?"

Spencer and Garcia shared a look, before they both turned to face Derek, looking disgusted.

"_What_?"

"Boy Wonder, you've been with him for four _years_ and he doesn't even know what a Whovian is? I'm embarrassed _for_ you."

Spencer shook his head, rubbing his temples. "I usually kick him out when I'm watching Doctor Who so I don't feel like I'm watching television with a five year old, constantly saying 'who's that?' 'why did that happen?' 'what's that?' 'why are they doing that?'. It's like babysitting Henry, only Henry eventually gets bored and goes to his room."

"I am _not_ that bad," Derek snapped.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yes, you _are_ that bad. When I was watching Angels Take Manhattan and getting upset, the only comment you made was 'what are those angel things? Those are cool'."

Garcia gasped. "He did _not_."

He nodded. "Oh, he did."

"Derek, weeping angels are not cool. They are devastating asshats who suck the life out of everything you love."

He put up his hands. "I told Spencer, I take it back, then I let him cry on my shoulder when Cory and Amy left."

"I'm sorry, who?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"You know, Amy Pond and Cory Williams."

Spencer groaned loudly, rubbing his temples again. "_No_."

Garcia smirked, ready to make a comment, before turning to the screen. "I really hope it's Andrew Scott. Have you _seen_ his performance of Moriarty in Sherlock? He was a _genius_, and he'd be so perfect as Twelve. Not to mention hi, he's no longer tied to Sherlock, which gives him the perfect availability to _be_ Twelve."

Spencer shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't had an older doctor since Sylvester McCoy, I'm not sure Moffat would go with a young doctor again. I want to say he'll be an older actor, though who, I can't even venture a guess."

"What about Bruce Willis?" Derek suggested.

Spencer sighed, giving him a disgusted look. "Derek, Doctor Who is a show based in the United Kingdom. Every Doctor they've had has been British. Do tell me _why_ they'd throw tradition out the window and say 'hey, let's get the guy from Die Hard'?"

Derek put up his hands. "I'm sorry I suggested it."

"You should be," Garcia said, swatting at his arm, "now shh! Announcing!"

The two of them held onto each other's hands, gripping and leaning forward, keeping a close eye on the laptop. Derek was reminded of himself watching the NHL draft, though he had never been _this_ invested in it. They looked as if they were in a trance, and nothing would be able to pull them out. He decided it was best to keep his mouth shut and not bother them again, because Garcia did have long nails, and those would hurt to have dug into his arm.

When the announcement was finally made, their faces changed into disgust. Spencer shook his head, leaning back. "This doesn't make sense!"

"Capaldi, really?! What's he _done_?"

Spencer exhaled, thinking. "One episode of Doctor Who in season 4, and a spot in the third series of Torchwood, but other than that? He must be big over there, because I've never really heard of him."

Her face scrunched up. "And this is it, we don't have another regeneration after this because it only goes up to Twelve. Come on, Moffat, what did I ever do to you?"

"Well, considering he's already aggravated the fanbase, he'll probably play by his own rules and have _another_ regeneration. He obviously doesn't care about how things are supposed to go or what the fans love and care about, he prefers to stomp on our feelings and never take us into consideration, so…"

"Are you two really that upset about this?"

They both turned to face him, Spencer with a slight glare.

"Derek, do you remember when that hockey team traded that player you really liked, and you were incredibly pissed off?"

"…Yeah?"

"_This_ is my hockey."

"I thought you just said you wanted an older doctor?"

"Older, yes. Unrecognizable, no. I mean, I'll still give him a chance, because it is Doctor Who, and Moffat is a twisted genius, however much of a jerk he may be."

"What do you have against this Muppet guy?"

Spencer groaned loudly, shaking his head and resting it in his hands. "Oh my _God,_ you are so lucky you're good in bed or I would hit you."

* * *

Author's Note: Just a fun little one-shot based on Spencer and Garcia's love of Doctor Who.


End file.
